Forged by Magic (Falling for Fables, #1)(75)

But everywhere I looked, there was nothing but bushes and trees and leaves gusting in the wind. The rain was growing heavier now, slashing against my body like knives. Shuddering, I ran for a fallen log and dove beneath it, but it did little to block the storm.

I crawled as far beneath the log as I could manage and folded myself into a ball. Big droplets of rain slammed on my exposed shoulder and the left side of my back. I shivered and squeezed my eyes tight, praying to Freya. The Goddess of the Elements had never looked kindly on me or my people, and yet I whispered her name as my skin came alive with burning welts.

If I had any hope of survival, I needed the storm to stop soon. It would be raining back in Wyndale, too, and Rivelin would know I’d take shelter. I had no idea how close I was to the village or if he and the others were still looking for me, but they might be. And if they found me now, I would be too weak to fight back.

With those thoughts rolling around in my head, I hissed and started crawling out from beneath the protective log. I needed to keep moving.

The air suddenly warmed, a soothing heat caressing my aching skin. Trembling, I lifted my head to spy a red-scaled dragon bursting through the canopy, her leathery wings beating at the rain-soaked air. My breath caught. It was Aska, come to find me once more. But this time, I had none of Mabel’s treats, and I was on the run from Rivelin. Had he sent her after me?

Aska landed heavily on the soaked forest floor and stalked toward me, her claws churning the dirt. I braced myself for the impact.

The dragon swept a wing over my head. An excruciating moment passed, where I could not bring myself to breathe. And then the wing merely stayed there.

Swallowing, I looked up. The dragon’s wing was blocking the downpour, and the sharp stabs of pain faded slightly, though I was still soaked to the bone. Every single inch of my body hurt, but….the dragon was holding off the worst of it now.

I turned toward her long snout and searched those ember eyes. Slowly, she blinked, as if to confirm my unspoken question. Aska had not swooped into the forest to harm me or take me to Rivelin. She was…protecting me.

“Why?” I whispered.

She blinked again, then settled on her haunches. The wing remained right where it was, and the rain transformed the forest into a haze of mist and soggy leaves. I leaned back against the fallen log, still shaking. The pain was not getting worse, but it was still unrelenting. My hair was a wet clump against my back, and my clothes were waterlogged. I would struggle to improve unless I got dry.

I dropped my head against the log and sighed. Aska remained still, only occasionally shifting her wing, the warmth of her body soothing my pain, just a bit. And as I sat there like that, with my deepest fear protecting me, I couldn’t help but wonder if Mabel had been right in what she’d told Viggo and the others. No one knew where orcs had come from. Or, if they did, they’d never told me.

Could it be because we had a link with dragons somewhere in our past?

As the moments crept on, the rain eventually slowed and then stopped. Aska stood and stretched, and beads of water rolled off the leathery, veined wings edged in tusk-like claws. Patches of her skin were raw and pink, where familiar welts were beginning to form.

I pushed to my feet and carefully approached her. “You’re hurt. The rain gave you welts, like me.” I shook my head. “I don’t understand why you helped me.”

She gazed at me for a long moment with those ember eyes, then flattened her body to the ground. She shifted sideways, as if to expose her back to me. Built into her body was a small seat made from glistening scales. This was nothing folk-made. It was a part of her.

Without another word, I grabbed the small tusk growing from her neck and hauled myself onto her back. Intoxicating heat flooded my senses, the sensation charging through me like a thunderstorm. Suddenly, I felt wild and vicious and free. This was raw magic unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Body trembling, I tried to steady my breathing, but my lungs were as on fire as the rest of me.

The dragon lifted her head and roared.





33




RIVELIN





A knock sounded on my door, barely audible over the heavy drumming of rain and crashing thunder—the last storm of the summer. I frowned and continued to stare at my cold hearth rather than get up and be forced to interact with someone. It would likely be Haldor, Odel, or Lilia, trying to convince me to leave my house. That would not be happening.

Skoll whined and nudged my leg. He’d remained by my side for six days, even when Viggo had tried to encourage him to track down Daella. The fenrir would be able to do it, too. With his heightened sense of smell and speed, he’d have found her within a day.

And yet, I’d told Viggo to back off and leave Skoll be. They only wanted to find her so they could lock her up.

I should want that, too, after everything she’d done. But I didn’t, not after seeing the look on her face when Haldor had mentioned their plan to take her as our prisoner. That flash of fear wasn’t something anyone could fake, not even her.

“Rivelin, dearest, please open up.” Mabel’s frail voice infiltrated my determined avoidance. I sighed and stood. If it were anyone else, I would continue my lonely solitude, but I couldn’t ignore the kindest woman in the village.

Skoll panted happily and rushed into the hallway, where he wagged his tail in anticipation.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” I grumbled to him.